


Smoke and Peat

by RivetingFabrications



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Blindfolds, Cigarettes, Handcuffs, M/M, Voyeurism, i'm not sure how to tag the other kinks in here tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 15:02:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7110454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RivetingFabrications/pseuds/RivetingFabrications
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say he's a voyeur, yet Jason's gaze never fails to make Tim <em>squirm</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Peat

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for my 104 followers on tumblr! Y'all are amazing <3  
> Also, this took longer to post because people kept dragging me off my laptop and preventing me from writing XD

Silence. His breaths feel too loud in the stillness; he slows them, drawing each exhale and inhale out as much as his lungs will allow him.

He knows Jason is in the room, watching. Waiting for a chance to make his move. He swallows thickly, feels the bob of his Adam’s apple jump up and down once. It’s strange, feeling so vulnerable. His clothes are folded neatly at the foot of the bed, drapes closed, his body bared for Jason. No utility belt; that was the first thing Jason tugged off with a devilish grin before the blindfold had slipped over his eyes. Bat-issued handcuffs loosely chain him to one of the legs of the bed, the cuffs snug and cool against his wrists. Not too tight, enough for one of Jason’s fingers to slide through the space between the metal and his skin. Even despite their looseness, the Bat’s handcuffs will hold against any struggles he might make.

He’s on his knees, legs splayed obediently for Jason’s pleasure. His imprisoned hands rest loosely against the small of his back. It’s a position he could hold for a long time; his knees might be stiff once he moves due to the hardwood, but from the game Jason is playing, that shouldn’t be a problem.

_Snikt_. The first sound in fifteen minutes, by Tim’s internal count. The crisp smell of cigarette smoke gradually wafts over to him. Jason’s favorite brand. The rustle of fabric that Tim pinpoints at coming from the chair in the corner; Jason’s still wearing his clothes, then. A memory occurs to him of Jason looming over him, hands roaming over his bare chest in a different time, the same game, and then the brush of his already half-hard member against his skin.

His cock stirs, beginning to fill with blood. Tim inwardly curses. There’s no way Jason didn’t see it. Embarrassment coats his cheeks with red. He thinks back to Batman’s teachings, attempts to employ one of the meditation rituals drilled into him, and tries to sink his mind back into a pit of inner calmness and tranquility. It’s a game, sure, but he doesn’t want to lose so easily, not to his predecessor.

A difficult desire when all he wants is to fucking spread his legs and _beg_.

Then heat, focused to a point that narrows down on to the skin of his inner thigh, far too close to his crotch for comfort. The waft of breathy cigarette smoke against the shell of his ear makes him jerk against his bonds in shock, caught off guard. His breath hitches. He hadn’t even heard Jason _move_.

A rough laugh, raspy and guttural from the smoke. “You’re enjoying this, Replacement.” A shiver that Tim can’t hide. He swallows, opens his mouth to speak, but then there are warm, chapped lips sealing themselves against his, breathing smoke and peat into his lungs. He groans for it, wisps of smoke teasing his skin until his mouth and throat are filled with Jason until he can’t breathe anymore. All too soon, Jason pulls away, and a soft noise of abandonment leaves Tim. A chuckle.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Jason purrs. Tim sputters a little, tries to speak, but Jason shushes him gently, a gloved finger pressing against his mouth. “No, don’t speak. I like you like this.” It pushes past his lips; Tim whimpers at the taste of Kevlar, legs subtly shifting as all the blood in his body rushes south. Jason’s finger slowly pushes all the way in, twisting and curling in his mouth and pressing against the ceiling of his mouth briefly, forcing Tim to look up even though he can’t see. Tim’s tongue tentatively licks it and the finger pulls out, though not for long. Two fingers force their way in, and Tim sucks hard at them, tongue lapping wetly at them. Soon enough, three fingers are fucking his mouth sloppily, Tim’s lips and chin shiny and slick with saliva, and Tim is moaning pathetically, fingers gripping the leg of the bed with whitened knuckles. All the while, the burning, focused heat of the cigarette head remains a constant, burning heat against the same patch of skin, never touching.

Then suddenly, burning ash falls against his skin, once, twice, as if Jason were tapping the butt of it. In their line of work, this kind of pain is negligible, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t _hurt_. Tim hisses at the sting and burn, twisting his body to get away. A sharp, tutting noise, and Tim forces his body to accept the pain, to submit. He can’t grit his teeth to bear it, not with the fingers fucking his mouth brutally, practically stabbing the back of his throat with their roughness. The pain sinks into his skin, as he acquiesces to Jason, then the pinpoint of heat disappears. Another gloved hand brushes the ash aside quickly, scattering it from his skin.

His cock is painfully hard. Abruptly, Jason’s presence pulls away. The fingers yank out of his mouth, snapping the thread of saliva connecting them to his abused lips almost immediately. Tim licks his lips; they’re wet and filthy, and _god_ he feels disgusting and warm and humiliated. A huff of breath, obviously meant for him to hear, and then the floorboards creak under Jason’s weight. He’s shifting back, and there’s a loud whump as Jason’s back hits the opposing wall, settling against it. Too far for Tim to reach, even if he could, but so near it makes him internally sob.

Another _snikt_ of Jason’s lighter. The scent of cigarette smoke becomes stronger, more pungent. Frustrated, Tim tugs at his bonds, tries to shift his weight to accommodate his cramping legs.

“ _No_.” Jason’s voice snaps at him, hard and angry, and Tim almost recoils. “You’re not allowed to move.” Tim stills his muscles, breath heavier now. The minutes drag on forever; Tim lets out a poorly restrained sob as his cock jerks for Jason’s attention, swollen and heavy. Jason’s breaths are measured in satisfaction with each puff of the cigarette. Tim can feel Jason’s eyes on him, calculating and sly, and his unseen gaze makes Tim’s blood boil and his body shudder helplessly.

It’s a soft sound, but in the silence Tim hears the crunch of the second cigarette in the ashtray; he must have missed the first one. He waits expectantly.

A third flick of the lighter. An unbridled cry of frustration breaks loose from Tim’s lips. There’s no acknowledgement of his anguish on Jason’s behalf. The minutes tick by. Tim tugs at his restrained wrists. There’s no reprimand, just the heavy weight of Jason’s gaze’s pinning him where he kneels, cock throbbing with precome trailing down the shaft, all without being touched.

“ _Please_.” It’s a hoarse, desperate whisper. Jason is silent, and that’s all the encouragement that Tim needs for the floodgates to open. His body twists, testing his restraints as he tugs against them, reaching for Jason. “Please, please, _please_. Jason, I need you to touch me, I can’t take it, _please_ –” Tim gasps, heat flooding his veins and blood pounding in his head when he hears the cigarette being crushed unfinished in the ashtray (he knows how long it takes for Jason to finish each stick) and Jason undoubtedly standing up, looming over him.

Something hard presses against his cock, a flat, unrelenting pressure. Tim sobs, arching up into the touch, and Jason growls in approval.

“That’s right, get yourself off on my boot, you little bitch.” Thoughtlessly, Tim ruts against the sole, whimpering madly at the feel of the ridges against his sensitive cock. Jason’s foot only presses his cock firmly against his stomach, and Tim only spreads his legs wider, humping against it as much as the length of the chain links permit him to. Jason’s sole becomes slick with precome, easing the way Tim’s cock bumps and jolts against it, and Tim whines, high-pitched as his nearing orgasm becomes an impending crescendo.

“Please, don’t stop –” he falters, crying desperately when the rigid pressure of Jason’s boot disappears. Jason laughs, rough and husky.

“You’re not allowed to come yet.” Tim only moans thinly in response, hips thrusting into thin air, his heavy cock bobbing in the cool touch of the air. Jason moves closer, the fabric of his pants brushing against Tim’s arm, and then he grunts, lifting the bed enough to free the loop of chain trapping Tim there. The bed comes back down with a sharp thud, and then Jason’s dragging Tim up, all but tossing him on the bed facedown.

Tim hits the covers with a surprised groan, then hears the telltale snap of a bottle. Jason’s gloved hand worms its way into one of Tim’s clenched fists, prying it open. Then the cool, sticky fluid of lubricant drizzles into his open palm.

“Get yourself open,” Jason orders, and then his presence fades. Tim sobs, shifting haphazardly on the bed. His hands awkwardly position themselves, still cuffed together, and his fingers smear lube on each other in their bid to obey Jason’s demand. The hand that doesn’t have lubricant in it manages to grip one ass cheek, spreading it as much as he can, while another finger clumsily circles his hole, nudging it gently before slowly deepening each push. He hasn’t done this in a while, by that meaning he’s gotten spoilt and used to Jason’s thicker fingers crooking expertly inside him, finding every sensitive nerve and making them _sing_.

His finger prods at himself, but each dip and push allows his finger to sink a little deeper inside him, until it sinks in to the first knuckle. It’s a shallow breach, barely anything, but it’s enough to make him pant and drool into the bedsheets, face brightly flushed.

He can hear Jason walking, his steps purposefully loud, and Tim slopes his body into an arch, ass up in the air. Anything to entice Jason, anything to get him to fucking _touch_ him. The thought of Jason’s hands roaming over his body, pinching and twisting his nipples, gaze feral and dominating makes Tim’s cock leak another wave of precome. He sobs when he manages to crook his finger inside of himself, it’s so damn close to his prostate but not enough; not long enough or thick enough to find the spots that make him cry with reckless abandon. He forces in a second finger, the thick slide of it without quite enough lube sets his nerves on fire, makes him gasp and squirm, perhaps more so for Jason’s benefit.

A growl, then Jason’s weight sinks the mattress, and Tim whines as his spread knees tremble at the bounce of the bed. “ _Slow down_.” Jason’s Kevlar-protected fingers grips Tim’s asscheeks, spreading them, and more lube drizzles down Tim’s crack. Gasping, Tim obeys, slicking his fingers with the additional lube, pressing in further. He whimpers at the stretch, hopes that Jason will help him, but Jason remains a steady presence, only helping to spread the globes of his ass in a constant pressure. He wishes his fingers would grope, flexing or trailing their touch over his overheated skin, but it’s a moot point. He sobs, trying to twist his fingers to find that _spot_ , but at the angle his hands are chained at, it’s impossible.

“Jay, please,” he begs. His blindfold is a little cool and damp with tears, but it barely even registers. “Please, I can’t – I can’t reach – _please_.” He cants his hips up further into Jason’s touch. Jason exhales; he’s getting to him. Emboldened, Tim whines, twisting his head to the side from where his face had been buried into the sheets. His lips part, shiny with saliva, to reveal the hint of his tongue flicking out, asking for a kiss.

A growl, and then the sounds of Jason’s belt buckle loosening and zipper being tugged down that makes Tim want to weep with joyous relief. He hears Jason tugging his pants further down his legs, and then Tim moans when Jason’s hand grips his wrist, dragging his fingers out from his pucker roughly. 

More lube is poured into his hand, and then Jason’s thick, straining member pushes into his palm. Understanding, Tim curls his fingers into a fist, giving Jason a few rapid, smooth strokes, pumping his pulsing member with clumsy twists of his chained hands. Then Jason pulls away, and Tim moans in anticipation as Jason’s weight indents the mattress.

He situates himself between Tim’s legs, and Tim whimpers in realization when Jason grips his hips in gloved hands that he’s going to be fucked without Jason ever touching him, save for the taste of cigarette smoke in a single kiss. Jason’s cock slides along the crease of his ass, catching on his rim, and then Jason is pressing in, a smooth, inexorable slide that makes Tim cry and twist and _arch_. The slide becomes an unyielding pressure, and Tim heaves out a heavy sob when Jason finally bottoms out, fully sheathed in him, his ass pressed against the rough edge of Jason’s belt buckle and the scratch of denim.

Jason growls roughly, a hand running along the curved slope of his spine appreciatively. Then it falls back to his hips again, squeezing once, and then Tim is pushed forward as he slides partially out, snaps his hips back in once again. The thrust has Tim gasping, sticky fingers curling into fists, the breath punched out of his lungs when Jason repeats the movement, hips rolling against his. The slide becomes a little easier, a little smoother, Tim’s channel clamping down on his cock. His pace gets rougher, and Tim’s body jostles with its roughness, his voice spewing a constant litany of pleas and moans for Jason. He rocks back into Jason, but mostly Jason controls the pace, and all Tim can do is scream and simply _take_ it.

Then Jason’s hands fall from his hips, and Tim pushes back against the thrust. His muscles ache, and he cries out as Jason grips his cuffs, yanks him backwards with them onto his cock, pelvis grinding against his ass. His gloved hand curls about Tim’s member, and though he’s expecting a rough glide that catches on all too sensitive skin, it’s sticky with lube, and Tim keens and bucks into it desperately, caught between the sweet ache of his fist and the slide of his cock hitting his prostate.

Maybe it’s all the wordless, begging sobs from Tim’s heaving chest, or the way his inner muscles squeeze tightly around Jason’s girth, but then Jason’s leaning forward, still jerking him onto his cock with his handcuffed arms, growling “come, pretty bird,” and Tim’s gone, screaming into the mattress as his cock throbs in Jason’s gloved palm, spurting and leaking messily against the bed and onto Kevlar-protected fingers. Jason slams in once more, riding out Tim’s aftershocks and the tremors rippling through his body, groaning at the feel of Tim’s muscles rippling exquisitely around him.

When Tim slides bonelessly into the bed, fully spent and body taxed of energy, Jason starts his thrusts once again, but they’re less harsh, his pelvis undulating against Tim’s ass and rocking Tim through the oversensitive haze of bliss. With a final groan, Jason spends himself in Tim. The younger man quivers at the feeling of wetness and semen being emptied into him, tightening once more around Jason to milk his cock. He whines softly when Jason pulls out, keening when gloved fingers shove a drop of stray semen back into his hole, tightening his muscles to keep it in.

 Jason chuckles, shoving gloves that taste like lube and semen into his mouth once more. Too tired to even care, Tim suckles on them, moaning at the taste. It doesn’t last long, and Jason pulls his fingers from his mouth, and Tim hears something hit the mattress with a soft whump. Then bare, familiarly calloused fingers are gently turning him over, unlocking his cuffs. Even when they loosen the blindfold around his head, Tim’s too weary to even open his eyes.

“Tim.” Fingers tenderly cup his cheek, and he nuzzles into them, kisses them before he hazily opens his eyes. Jason’s there, his eyes dark blue and earnest, and a clean thumb brushes away the residual dampness of tears Tim hadn’t even realized were there. “Talk to me,” Jason breathes, pressing his forehead to Tim’s.

“Was. Good,” croaks Tim, and his fingers which feel like clumsy sausages tug numbly at the leather of Jason’s jacket. Jason hums softly, shrugging his jacket off to wrap Tim in. He tucks his softening member back into his jeans before stroking Tim’s bangs back, sweeping them away from his eyes.

“Let me clean you up,” he offers, but Tim shakes his head, curling into Jason’s warmth.

“Stay,” mumbles Tim. Jason looks like he’s about to argue, but nods anyway, arranging Tim so that he’s slumped against his chest. Tim dozes in and out of consciousness briefly, for what can’t be more than a few minutes but feels like hours.

The _snikt_ of a cigarette being lit.

“Bad f’r y’r,” grouses Tim, tucking his head under Jason’s chin. Jason grunts, the sound vibrating in his chest and then a hand tilts Tim’s head up. Jason catches his lips in another hazy, smoky kiss that has Tim surrendering to him completely.

“You love it,” Jason breathes against his mouth, the hint of a tongue tracing the seam of his lips, and Tim can only whimper in agreement when Jason’s arms tighten around his waist.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and reviews are my lifeblood and make me squeal with happiness <3  
> Also, I have a [tumblr](http://rivetingfabrications.tumblr.com/) for those of you who are interested :)


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